


Let go.

by Michaelssw0rd



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, I Tried, M/M, Praise Kink, i have no idea wtf i am doing with this but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd
Summary: "Do you ever look at a boy and wonder if he moans as pretty as he looks" (inspired from a tumblr post)





	

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhhhh. I kind of want to pre-warn about how much i can not smut? But like *shrugs* I tried. Inspired from that tumblr post and then by the absolutely lovely xlostlenore! So this is a shout out to her for being absolutely amazing
> 
> http://xlostlenore.tumblr.com/post/153511604728/broken-somnium-galahaed-do-you-ever-look-at-a

“Give me your left hand John.” Harold said, a quiet command, and John raised it obediently. After tying it securely to the bed post with his tie, he smiled and asked, “Now your right?” moving to the other side of the bed.

John was lying in bed, naked, his gorgeous and distracting body on display, but Harold had a purpose to today’s exercise, and he was going to focus. John deserved that.

“Alright done. Would you please test the bindings for me?” He inquired sweetly, and John twisted his wrists and pulled, nodding at Harold with lust filled yes.

“They are secure.” He said, his already rough voice making a shiver run down Harold’s spine.

“Can you get out of them?”

John looked conflicted, but he knew better than to lie to Harold, so he nodded.

“Good. Do you want to?”

A shake of head, coming a lot quicker this time. No words though. John tended to do that. He was already quiet by nature, and in bed that increased tenfold. That, Harold decided, just won’t do. He wanted to _hear_ him.

Sitting on the bed, near John’s head, he ran his fingers on the sinews of his arm, from wrist to shoulder and back. His hand was clenched in a tight fist, and his muscles were straining and tense, keeping John anchored and still.

“You’re so strong.” Harold admired, “these hands can destroy as good as they can protect, and yet you always, always choose the latter.”

“Not always.” John mumbled, but Harold hushed him.

“I love how powerful these hands are, but for now, I want you to relax.” John tensed once more, as if not understanding what to do, and Harold squeezed his forearm reassuringly. “Just like that John. There’s no reason to fight right now. I have you. Let go.”

He could see John reigning in his breathing, controlling it, and then slowly but determinedly exhaling. With the slow puff of air leaving his body, so did the rigidity, making John sag into the bed.

“Very good. So good.” Harold praised, delighted to see the small shiver running down Reese’s body, and the blush creeping up on his face, even while John tried to turn his face to hide it. There was no hiding when he had willingly displayed himself to Harold, body and soul.

Smilingly, he turned John’s face, and kissed him, quick and dirty, and then rejoiced in the choked off whine when he pulled away to press his lips to his lover’s forehead instead.

John was looking at him beseechingly, and Harold felt compelled to ask. “What do you want to do?”

“Whatever you want Harold. Just…anything.”

And Harold could not stop himself from being delighted, “I was hoping you would say that.” He ran an appreciative hand down John’s chest, tracing the knife scar, badly stitched on John’s shoulder, the still healing graze of a bullet, until he reached his nipple. Carefully, he ran the pad of his thumb across it, grazing it gently. He noticed the hitch in John’s breath, and looked up to see him biting his lower lip and squeezing his eyes shut- hiding again. That _really_ just won’t do.

“Mr. Reese, do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” Aimlessly rubbing his thumb back and forth over the nipple and looking at John’s face, Harold asked. John gave a barely there shake of head, not speaking, not even looking back.

Tearing his eyes away from his face, he watched as he ran the back of his fingers lightly down his torso, caressing, from neck to the dip around the navel area, murmuring, “and mind you, the first time I saw you was across a computer screen, mere pictures of you, and yet,” trailing the touch back up slowly, “I thought, _what a remarkably beautiful person_.”

Harold wished he could not predict the way John would react to this, but sadly he did. John’s whole body tensed, his eyes snapped open and sought out Harold’s as he shook his head, muttering a barely audible, “No I am not.”

Harold sighed, and withdrew his hand. To reinforce his point, he even scooted a little bit, so no part of his body was touching John’s anymore. Then he looked at John with disappointment clear in his eyes. It took John just a few moments to realize that the warmth was missing, that he did something wrong.

“Wha- ?” he looked around, confused.

“Mr. Reese! Haven’t we been over this?” When John did not seem to comprehend it, he asked again, his voice going calm and firm. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.” John replied in reflex, without understanding the implication of it.

“Yes. That’s right. You belong to me. Now, do you think you get to insult what’s mine?”

Suddenly understanding, John sagged again, letting his chin drop. He gave no answer.

“I asked you a question John.” Tenderness crept into his voice. As much as he hated John belittling himself, he understood his reasons all too well.

“I am sorry. You’re right.” He said, contrite and crestfallen, and Harold cupped his face, stroking his cheekbones with his thumb. When their eyes met, Finch smiled reassuringly, and then bent forward to kiss him, washing away the insecurities and leaving him pleasantly buzzing with lust and desire.

“Alright where were we?” He resumed after a few moments of the kiss, caressing John’s jaw, his neck, letting his fingers linger where he could feel the rapid pulsing of his carotid. “Yes. I thought, what a gorgeous, handsome man.” John flushed and tensed, but didn’t try to move away or protest this time.

“And then we met, and I realized how small these words were, how I underestimated your attractiveness across the screen. It was overwhelming.”

Harold’s hand, resting on John’s chest, could feel how fast his heart was beating, how strong. “You know what else I wondered?” He mused, maneuvering to leave a kiss right on John’s heart and then moving to give a cat lick to the nipple closest to him. John jerked at that, letting out a tiny, tiny breathless ‘Oh’ which was stifled before it began.

“I wondered, and have been wondering for a while now” circling the belly button, “about whether you moan as pretty as you look.”

And at that… he finally, finally, took hold of John’s straining erection and gave it one slow stroke, down and then up, moving away from John’s chasing hips, and looking at him with a devious glint in his eyes. John’s lip was already bitten red and swollen, from keeping the noises inside.

“As much as I admire your restraint John, today, I want you to let it go. Let me hear you. Let’s put my curiosity to rest, what do you say?” He smirked wickedly, pinching John’s nipple with one hand, and rubbing two fingers under John’s sensitive cock head with other.

He could see defeat written on John’s face, and when he moaned, self-conscious, turning slightly and hiding his face into the pillow, Harold knew he had already won.


End file.
